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CAPTAIN GINGER’S FAIRY 









These little creatures seemed to be coming from every direction 














Captain Ginger’s Fairy 

BY 

ISABEL ANDERSON 

»\ 

With Illustrations by H. Boylston Dummer 



THE C. M. CLARK PUBLISHING CO. 
boston, mass. 


T2 7 

'f\53,C 



Copyright, 1910 

THE C. M. CLARK PUBLISHING CO. 


BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS 


^ Cl.A<!S(>70a 




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DEDICATED 

With love to my Godson, J. C. 






QAPTAIN GINGER! What a 
funny name for a little boy! But 
this little fellow’s really truly name 
was Jimmy. Out of all his many pet 
names Captain Ginger was the one 
he liked best, because it showed that 
he was a brave little chap, full of life 
and go. 


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Mamma said, too, that it just 
suited his sunny hair, which was ex¬ 
actly the color of ginger. 


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when he had tantrums, as I am 
sorry to say he sometimes did, Grand¬ 
ma would call him her tiny red pep¬ 
per-pot, and Jimmy did not like that 
at all. 








Early in September, after a long, 
warm summer, Captain Ginger grew 
pale and tired and just a bit ill. 
His poor mamma was much worried 
and called in the family doctor, who 
looked him over carefully. 


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‘‘There is nothing serious,” he told them 



























“There is nothing serious,” he told 
them; “keep him out in the fresh air 
as much as possible. I think it would 
do him a great deal of good to sleep 
out of doors.” 



Now Captain Ginger had a dear, 
old-fashioned grandmother who 
thought, as all grandmas do, that 
there was no little boy in the whole 
world quite like her Jimmy. 


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she was sure the darling would 
catch his death of cold on the piazza, 
and be very lonely, too. She said that 
she for one hadn’t any use for these 
“new-fangled idees.” 


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The Captain assured her that he 
was not a bit afraid to sleep out there 
all alone in the dark. No, not he! 


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“Just think, of all the fairies I’ll see, 
Granny!” he cried. “The night’s the 
time when they all come out to play. 
You told me so yourself. And it 
won’t be really dark either, for the 
moon’s lots better’n a lamp. 


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“Course I won’t be lonely. I’m a 
big boy now, Granny. Why, I’m four 
whole years old, you know.” 

But the poor old lady would not 
be comforted. 


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“Course I won’t be lonely, I’m a big boy now, Granny” 















It seemed as though night would 
never come. For the first time in his 
life Captain Ginger longed for seven 
o’clock. It was yet early evening 
when he commenced coaxing his 
mamma to put him to bed. 


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“Mumsy, my crib is a-crying for 
me—I know it is,” he said; and, like 
a little pussy cat, he rubbed his 
head against his mother. “I bet it’s 
’zactly bedtime.” 


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“Why, so it is,” replied Mamma, 
looking at the big clock in the corner 
of the nursery. “Pull out your thick 
flannel nighty from the bottom drawer 
of my bureau. 


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“That is right. Now put your 
toys away, and I will tuck you into 
your little nest before the moon goes 
to sleep.” 


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Captain Ginger was very much ex¬ 
cited and tried hard to help his mam¬ 
ma, but his baby fingers would only 
get in the way. 


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she caught the little pink tips and 
kissed them as she lifted him in her 
arms and bore him through the big 
window to his crib. 


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Then Mumsy heard her little boy’s prayers and kissed him good-night 














Mamma heard her little boy’s pray¬ 
ers, kissed him good-night and left 
him on the veranda, just where she 
could get a good view of him from 
her own bedroom window, which 
was always wide open. 


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The moon peeped in at him 
through the woodbine leaves which 
looked all black against the light, al¬ 
though in the daytime they were as 
red as red could be. The air was crisp 
and cool, and all the live things seemed 
livelier than ever. 


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Ginger thought they must be giv¬ 
ing a concert just to please him. 
They sang, they whistled and danced 
about, making all sorts of strange 
noises. 


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Captain Ginger had never heard 
any of these sounds before, so he lay 
very mousey-quiet with his eyes and 
ears wide open so that he shouldn’t 
miss a single thing. 


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He hoped the fairies would not be 
long in coming. He supposed they 
would talk and sing to him. 




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He wondered what they looked 
like and if they were beautiful— 
something like his dear mamma when 
she was dressed for a party with 
flowers and jewels—or did they have 
queer shapes? 


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He couldn’t quite make up his 
mind as to that. So he thought he 
would lie awake and watch for them. 


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The woodbine leaves were softly 
tap-tapping against one another on 
the trellis and two little creatures 
somewhere up in a tree seemed to be 
having a great discussion. 

“Katy did!” said one. 

“Katy didn’t! Katy didn’t!” said 
the other. 


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They kept repeating it over and 
over again, till Captain Ginger was 
quite tired and he dozed off before 
he intended to. 

$ 


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But what do you suppose? In a 
very short time he was awakened by 
a clear little voice piping gayly, 
“Ch eer-up, cheer-up!” 


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He had never heard anything like 
this before in his life! The moon was 
now looking right down at him, and 
he was sure that the man in the moon 
was smiling. 


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The most exciting thing of all was 
that the little voice was getting nearer 
and nearer, and in a moment some¬ 
thing he thought was a fairy came 
and sat right on his bed! 


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“Oh! It must be a singin’ fairy!” 
he laughed, as he stretched out his 
chubby pink hands to see if he could 
catch it. 


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Instead of the fairy who sang so 
cheerily he caught something else 
that gave him just a wee bite on the 
tip of his thumb. He let it go very 
quickly, you may be sure. 

“That,” thought he, “must be a 
bad fairy.” 


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‘‘That,” thought he, “must be a bad fairy” 







































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He could not understand this be¬ 
cause dear Grandma had often told 
him that all little fairies were good. It 
flew away singing, “Fuzzy-buzzy- 
wuzzy-wuzz! Fuzzy-buzzy-wuzzy- 
wuzz!” 


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At this Captain Ginger was very 
angry and wanted to cry, but of 
course he didn’t because he was a 
brave little man. 


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All of a sudden something gave 
a big hop right over his crib and 
landed on the railing. 


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By the light of the moon he made 
sure that it was a fat, green fairy with 
bright, beady little eyes. Then he 
looked about and spied other fairies 
with tiny waists and dresses of black 
and yellow, flying in the air with 
pretty silver and ivory wings. 


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These little creatures seemed to be 
sailing from every direction. Faster 
and faster they came and sat about 
Captain Ginger on the railing of his 
little crib. 


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They seemed to be blowing horns, 

playing on combs, and beating drums. 
What a noise they made! It sounded 
to him like a brass band he had heard 
in the street one day. 


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Then for the second time, higher 
and louder even than the first, Cap¬ 
tain Ginger heard that clear, shrill 
tune, “Cheer-up, cheer-up!” He 
knew it to be the voice of his singing 



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It was humming a bright, happy 
little song. This must surely be a 
good fairy, and he hoped that it 
would never stop singing. 


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(linger felt so sorry and hoped nothing had happened to this good fairy 














But very soon something long and 
blue whizzed by, darted right into the 
midst of the musicians, and scared 
them so that they all flew ofF in every 
direction as fast as they could go, and 
the pretty song wasn’t heard any 
more. Ginger felt so sorry, and hoped 
nothing had happened to this good 



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The next thing that he knew the 
rosy sun was looking through the 
woodbine and kissing his eyes so that 
he could hardly see. He sat up, and 
what do you think was the first— 
the very first—thing he saw? You 
could never guess. It was the singing 
fairy! 


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Ginger would not have known 
that it was a fairy at all, because it 
was all black and shiny, but it began 
to sing its same merry, little song. 


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There was no tiny voice anywhere 
singing, “Fuzzy-buzzy-wuzzy-wuzz! 
Fuzzy-buzzy-wuzzy-wuzz!” and no 
long blue fairy darting wildly about, 
so Captain Ginger stretched out his 
hand and captured the wriggling little 
creature. 


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“See, Mumsy, come quick, I’ve got her!” he shouted 











Then he called aloud to his 
mother. 

“See, Mumsy, come quick, I’ve got 
her!” he shouted. “I b’lieve it’s a real 
fairy this time; she’s a black, singing 
fairy; she’s a darky like old Dinah!” 


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His mother was awakened from a 
sound sleep, and she called back, 
“What on earth is the matter, child?” 
























































































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‘‘It’s tickling me!” he yelled glee¬ 
fully. “I’ve got her all right, but 
you’d better come quick!” So Mother 
came to the rescue and unlocked 
Ginger’s fingers, and out hopped a 
dear little cricket! 


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“No wonder you thought it was a 
singing fairy, kidlet,” she smiled. 
“Look at his little veined wings; he 
makes his music with them, just as 
though they were fiddles. 


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“When he lifts them and scrapes 
them against his sides you hear the 
cheerful sound you like so much.” 


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“I wish it were a fairy. I b’lieve I 
could keep it in the nursery, and have 
it to play with,” said the little boy 
regretfully. Do you think he would 
be frightened of Teddy? 


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Then he began to tell his mother 
about all the fairies he had seen, the 
naughty one that bit him and the 
fat, green one that had beady black 
eyes and gave such a big hop. 


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“That was a grasshopper, kidlet, 
but the one that bit you must have 
been a mosquito. I believe the little 
people with the small waists, dressed 
in black and yellow, with silver ivory 
wings, were wasps or flies. 


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“They are all insects, and some of 
them are good and some are bad. 
Now crickets make fine pets, Ginger. 
In countries where they are not so 
common, people put them in cages, 
and sell them in the market-place 
for pets.” 


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“If we leave this little fellow out¬ 
doors he will die of cold when the 
winter comes. How would you like 
to keep him on the nursery hearth ?” 


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“Oh, I’d like to ever ’n’ ever so 
much, Mumsy! If I feed him, will he 
sing for me?” 

“Surely. Crickets live on plants, 
unless they get very hungry in the 
autumn, and then the little cannibals 
eat one another.” 


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“I’ll get up this very minute, and 
make a cage for my singing fairy,” 
declared Ginger, sticking one foot over 
the edge of his crib. 


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“I’ll make a cage out of toothpicks 
for him, and love him very hard, and 
then maybe he will sing for me 
often.” 


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After he was all dressed he turned 
to his mother for his good-morning 
kiss, and whispered, “Please, Mumsy, 
rd like to sleep out every night. 
And how soon may I go to bed again?” 

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“Please Mumsy, I’d like to sleep out of doors every night” 


























Be Sure to Ask for 

The Captain Ginger Series 

BY 

ISABEL ANDERSON 

When you want a book that will delight 

the children. 

“Captain Ginger’s Fairy” 

Ready now 

(2) “Captain Ginger Aboard The 

Gee Whi%T 

In preparation 

The price of these dainty books will suit every pocket- 
bpok, for each one in the series, with its beautiful 
colored pictures, costs only 

50 cents 

THE C. M. CLARK PUBLISHING CO., 
Boston, Massachusetts. 












FEB 10 1911 








































